Hearts of two worlds
by PaperPrince
Summary: After the destruction of the planet Vulcan ensign Chekov doesn't feel like celebrating the victory  of the enterprise along with the rest of the crew. Avoiding the party he meets someone who is literally out of this world... Chekov/Female OC
1. Chapter 1

Hearts of two worlds

The smile slips from his lips as he leaves Captain Kirk's inauguration. Ignoring the life affirming celebrations of the other officers he makes his way to the observatory, wanting to be alone. He cannot legally drink their booze nor does he want to, for glad as he is to be back on earth and in one piece the idea of celebrating is nauseating.

To him the mission has not been a success; Vulcan may not have been his planet but it has been destroyed none the less. Billions killed in just one day. Federation and Vulcan alike mourn along with the rest of the universe. His scarred heart aches as he recalls the implosion of Vulcan, its image burned across his brain. The Vulcan massacre resonates deeply in him, pulling at old wounds that bleed deeply.

He stares at the holograph of the universe above him, the fake stars perfect replicas of the ones he had been staring at mere hours ago. He stares at the miniature Earth straining his eyes trying to make out the remains of his homeland, of Russia. His eyes briefly linger on the desolated land of his birth before moving higher towards the stars and along the solar systems.

He thinks of the vulcans tittering on the edge of extinction as he silently counts the more fortunate federation planets. He thinks of their culture and wonders if it will endure, if in a hundred years there will be anyone to remember their accomplishments and innovations. Or will the universe forget about them, reducing years upon years of their culture into little more than a footnote.

He wonders if like him, they will have to claw at every last trace of what was once theirs. If they will have to fight to hold on to an odd and complex language that few speak and none wants to learn. He wonders if they will have to remind others of their artists, writers and inventions. He wonders if the help they have been promised will appear or if they will be left to fend for themselves as he had been.

A quiet choking sob rouses him from his thoughts. Startled he pulls his eyes from screen. He searches the seemly empty room the darkness for the perpetrator of the devastating cry. Eventually his eyes fall on a hauntingly beautiful girl. Chekov's heart breaks at the sight of her. Filled with a sudden desire to comfort and protect her, he draws closer to the miserable maiden.

She sits alone in the far corner of the quiet room. A thin layer of red dirt coats her seat, the dust of a now nonexistent planet. On the dark sombre deck her long flowing yet torn blue gown glistens with the reflections of fake stars. She stares upward at the image planet Vulcan, her pretty dirt streaked face expressionless but for her sad watery eyes. Long ebony hair spills down tall straight shoulders. Captivated by her beautiful arched eyebrows and elegant pointed ears he stares at her, unable to speak.

Sensing his presence she glances at him and beckons for him to come closer, to sit down beside her. He obediently sits down, careful to maintain a safe distance between the two of them, for he doesn't wish to add to her pain. Her gaze returns to the constellations above their heads, watching as the program plays out its cycle repeating over and over.

She rests a tired head on his shoulder as he cries thick hot tears, enough for the two. A bandaged hand wipes at his cheek soothing him. He smiles at her and she pulls him closer enveloping him in a hug. Drowsily he entwines their hands together as sleep claims them both.


	2. Chapter 2

Logically she should have no trouble sleeping for the butcher of her people is dead. She along with the rest of the survivors are safe on another planet that is to be her temporary new home. It is illogical then that she finds herself unable to rest, for her shared quarters are more than satisfactory. When meditation also proves ineffective, she decides it logical (despite the late hour) to venture outside of her quarters in the hope of learning more about earth culture.

Strolling alone along the deserted grounds of the federation she peers through rooms and windows, her eyes and ears searching desperately for familiar voices or faces. She stares at the facilities strange architecture and marvels at the mesmerising gardens. She sneaks a look at the areas prohibited to the Vulcan survivors, catching a peek at the battered star ship that saved her.

The unusual sights and sounds overwhelm her already compromised mind. With her emotions threatening to get the better of her she seeks refuge inside one of the vacant buildings in order to collect her thoughts. The door slams shut behind her and for a moment she is blinded by the darkness. Groping in the darkness she ventures further inside the room. Her hand hits a panel on the wall and suddenly the dark room comes alive.

It doesn't take her long to realise that the meteors flying above her head are merely illusions. And while she does not have permission to remain here, she finds herself unable to regain her Vulcan composure so she stays in the semidarkness watching the stars dance in orbit.

She notices him the moment he enters the room. He isn't the first human she has seen but he makes for an interesting study. So she watches him surreptitiously. He is slightly on the skinny side and appears to be much more youthful than the other officers in the federation yet there is a maturity in his young green eyes that many of his elders seem to lack.

The golden pigmentation of his curly messy hair seems to fascinate her, perhaps due to its rarity. His smart golden uniform is dishevelled and he seems tired. In between glances she stares at the planets marvelling at how lush and vibrant they seemed compared to hers. Sadness washes over her again, as she realises she will never set eyes on her home world again.

Her eyes water but no tears fall, as she is incapable of them. Instead she quietly cries out for all of those who have been taken from them by a madman seeking revenge. She does not grieve for their culture, which is secure in the data banks of Memory Alpha nor for her life that has been radically altered. She grieves for the extreme waste of life, for the hundreds of millions of lives lost. The exact figure is unbearable large for her to calculate accurately.

He seems to sense her sadness approaching her to provide comfort and it occurs to her that maybe he has been asked by someone to look after her. He looks at her again and she dismisses the possibility for she senses a sadness in him that mirrors hers. The pain of a heart that has lost all that is dear to them parents, family and friends.

Although she doesn't know the young ensign's name nor he hers, she motions for him to sit beside her desperate for company. Despite his silence the youth seems to be a most effective distraction from her pain. Sitting in silence staring at the replica of the cosmos she finds herself captivated by him. Staring more often than is polite she is r grateful for the gloom that hides her blushes.

She looks at the blemishes on his face the ones that look like freckles but aren't and understands the anguish in his heart. She is not afraid of him, to fear the disease is illogical for the cure has been found, making it benign. Preventing it from burning through worlds any longer. Wordlessly she brushes her bandaged hand along his damp cheek, using the knowledge she had acquired from watching antique earth movies with her elder cousin to comfort him.

She rests her head on his shoulder strangely desperate for this human's comfort having shunned the same from males of her own kind. She begins to speculate, to formulate an answer as to why she suddenly seeks his companionship above all else, when sleep finally comes for her.

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><p>Remember review are greatly appreciated! I am currently considering a sequel to this so let me know if there is anything you would particularly like to see.<p> 


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